


Demons Walk Among Us

by MissErikaCourt



Series: Superlocked [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Supernatural
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-27
Updated: 2015-04-27
Packaged: 2018-03-25 23:37:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 20,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3829117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissErikaCourt/pseuds/MissErikaCourt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Molly Hooper had been finishing up a day's work and looking forward to curling up with Toby and a glass of wine when she got home, when something strange happened. Suddenly, she was waking up in the middle of a desert with none other than Sherlock Holmes. Luckily for them, they had people on their side that knew a thing or two about the seemingly supernatural situation they'd just gotten themselves into.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is kind of an experiment. I've been watching a lot of Supernatural lately (trying to get all caught up, I'm on season 5 now), and I thought it might be interesting to play with these sets of characters, and how they would interact if they were to meet. Sherlolly fans might hate me by the end, but I hope you'll enjoy.

Molly Hooper woke up with the sun glaring down at her and sand in her mouth. She had no idea how she'd gotten where she was, or where she _actually_ was. All she could remember was finishing up her last autopsy of the day, putting away the body, and walking to the locker room to get ready to go home to Toby and a nice glass of wine with her dinner. However, it seemed that hadn't been what had happened. She sat up slowly, trying to understand what exactly _had_ happened, her eyes blurring at the intense sunlight, when she caught something moving out of the corner of her eye. She turned her head quickly, which was a mistake judging by the white hot pain that shot through it at the sudden movement. She focused through the pain to figure out exactly what she had seen when she realized it was another person. She blinked rapidly to clear her vision just as the other figure sat upright and stared at her.

 

"Sh-Sherlock?" Molly stuttered as she realized who sat in front of her. "What's going on?"

 

"I could ask you the same thing." Sherlock answered, standing up slowly and brushing the sand off of his belstaff, then removing it along with his scarf.

 

"The last thing I remember I was in the morgue." Molly explained, pushing herself to her feet and trying to ignore the searing pain in her head as she explained the situation. "I don't know what happened. Apparently I blacked out, and now I'm here."

 

"I was at Baker Street, having tea with John." Sherlock offered the information without Molly even really having to ask. "I don't think we're in England anymore, Molly."

 

"I had the feeling you would say that." Molly removed her lab coat and draped it over her left arm, trying to find some way to cool down. Neither of them knew how long they'd been out in the sun, but they both knew that they wouldn't last forever out there. Dehydration would be a horrible way to die.

 

"We should find a road. A town. Anywhere with shade and water so that we can figure out where we actually are." Sherlock said, raking the hand that wasn't holding his coat through his dark curls and looking at the empty desert around them. It was clear that he didn't even know where to start, which is something that Molly had in common with him at this particular moment.

 

"This doesn't make any sense." Molly started, moving a bit closer to Sherlock. "How could we just suddenly end up in a desert in the middle of nowhere?"

 

"Working on it." Sherlock answered, kneeling down to examine the sand under his feet. He picked up a handful and let it run through his hands, noting the color and consistency. "I think we're somewhere in America. New Mexico, most likely."

 

“How on Earth did we end up in New Mexico?” Molly asked, dumbfounded. This was all a bit too much for her to handle. Something strange was happening, and she wasn't even sure that Sherlock Holmes could figure out what it was.

 

"We should start walking. We'll only die if we stay out here. Better to try and find some shelter, at least." Sherlock said, and started walking straight past Molly. She didn't know what to do, but she knew that staying by herself would likely get her killed, so she decided to follow Sherlock. It wasn't really that hard of a decision for her, she'd been crazy about him ever since he first set foot in her morgue a little over a month ago. Those perfect black curls, his hypnotizing blue-green eyes, and those cheek bones, then there was the fact that he was a genius. He was absolutely perfect in every way, and she wanted him to notice her more than anything else in the world. She could never work up the courage to say anything to him. She was just a normal girl, brown eyes, brown hair, the picture of ordinary. Sherlock would never be interested in someone like her. She could only hope that he would one day agree to be her friend, but that was really all she was holding out for.

 

It seemed like forever before they finally found some form of a road, although it wasn't really a road by any standards. It wasn't a main road, by any means, and it was highly unlikely that anyone would be traveling on it, but it was a road nonetheless. Sherlock seemed like he had accomplished something by finding it, and picked a direction to start walking in without consulting Molly. She didn't imagine she would have been much help, anyway, so she just followed along.

 

"Do you think it'll lead anywhere?" Molly asked in a shy voice, hoping that she didn't sound too ignorant.

 

"Every road leads somewhere, Molly. We'll just have to walk until we find where this one goes." He replied without so much as turning his head. Even in the desert he was a perfect picture of sophistication. He had to be burning alive in the dark suit he was wearing, but he didn't even seem to care. In fact, he didn't even seem to be sweating, which was something Molly was doing quite a lot of in the intense heat. Once again, Sherlock was the picture of a perfect man, and it was infuriating. She was ripped away from her thoughts when she heard a deep rumble coming up from behind them. They both turned to see a black car catching up to them quickly. They stepped out of the road just in time for the car to come to a screeching halt in front of them, kicking up a trail of dust that quickly caught up and surrounded them, along with the car. She heard two doors open and then close, and footsteps moving to the side of the car that she and Sherlock stood on. When the dust cleared, two men stood in front of them. One was extremely tall with almost shoulder length brown hair and green eyes, and the other was clean cut and looked a bit rough around the edges, with eyes that matched the taller man's. He leaned against the car while the tall one looked back and forth between Molly and Sherlock.

 

"Hello," Molly started, since no one else seemed to want to make the first moved. "we're a bit lost, do you think you might be able to point us toward a town?"

 

"Sweetie, I'll take you anywhere you wanna go." The rough one said as he sauntered a bit closer to Molly, then smiled. "The name's Dean."

 

"H-hello Dean, I'm Molly and this is Sherlock." Molly said, gesturing toward Sherlock who had been examining the two men closely since they stepped out of their car, trying not to roll his eyes at Dean's advances. "We're kind of confused, we're not sure how we got out here."

 

"Yeah, you don't sound like you're from around here. Any idea what happened?" The tall one asked in a soft tone as he stepped toward Molly. "My name is Sam, by the way."

 

"It's nice to meet you, Sam.” Molly said with a smile, then got back to the topic at hand. “We just woke up in the desert a few moments ago. The last thing I remember I was getting ready to go home from work. Sherlock was in his flat, then the next thing we knew we were here."

 

"So what, you let your lady bring home the bacon?" Dean asked, directing his question toward Sherlock, who was still in deep thought.

 

"I can tell you aren't exactly the brightest bulb in the closet _Dean_ , but even a lack wit could tell that Molly and I aren't in any sort of relationship. We're merely acquaintances, at best.” Sherlock replied with his usual social grace. Molly's heart sank a little at the bluntness of his words, and Sam seemed to pick up on her strife.

 

“Hey, listen buddy, I'm here to help you and your girlfriend, but if you wanna give me sass we can get back in our car and drive right back the way we came!” Dean shouted defensively.

 

“Dean, come on.” Sam started, an exasperated tone to his voice. “Sorry about that, my brother can get kind of...snappy. So, you don't know how you got here at all? Where are you from?”

 

“London.” Molly answered.

 

“And what time did you get done with work?”

 

“Around 5:00, I think. I'm not exactly sure.” Molly replied, looking round at Sherlock who had a sour expression plastered on his face. Sam looked at his watch and then gaped at his brother.

 

“Dean, it's 5:30. There's no way they could have gotten here that quickly. We've definitely got a case here.” Sam said, his tone changing from placid to anxious.

 

“I guess it wasn't just some freak electrical storm, then. Something brought them here.” Dean replied.

 

“Yeah, but why?”

 

“I'm sorry, if the two of you are done talking gibberish now, I'd like a real explanation about how we got here. What was it? Were we drugged? Hallucinogens? I'm really dying to know.” Sherlock spoke up, clearly growing tired of whatever the brothers were talking about.

 

“We didn't do anything to you, and it's a little hard to explain what really happened, so you're just gonna have to trust us here.” Dean said, running out of patience. “I suggest you and your little lady get in the car and come with us or you probably won't live to tell the tale to your friends across the pond.”

 

“Clearly you've done something. You knew exactly where to find us and immediately got out of your quite ghastly car upon arrival, so clearly you didn't think we were a threat. Judging by your stance you know how to fight, and have done quite a bit of it with all of the scars you've collected over the years. Your brother, however, seems to be rather intelligent. No scars, doesn't have a fighting stance, I can only assume that he's been away at college-Stanford, I believe-for two, no, three years, and has suddenly decided to go traveling with you. I can't imagine why, the two of you don't get on well. It seems like Sam would rather be back at school and you would rather be beating someone to a bloody pulp or fornicating with strange women somewhere.” Sherlock rambled off his deductions in quick succession while the Winchesters just stood staring in astonishment. “But please, continue to lie about why you're _really_ here.”

 

“Alright, listen, I can take insults, but don't you dare talk like that about my baby!” Dean said, pointing back toward his car as he spoke. “Who the hell is this guy?”

 

“Um, sorry,” Molly started, trying desperately to clear up the situation. “he's a genius. I mean...he's good at deductions. He sees things other people don't.”

 

“You don't have to explain me to them, Molly. They don't deserve an explanation. We, on the other hand, do. I know that the two of you know why we're here and I would like it very much if you would enlighten us.” Sherlock demanded.

 

“Listen, you seem like nice people, and we want to help you, but you're not going to believe it if we tell you the truth. It's much easier if you just come with us.” Sam explained in a soft voice. Molly was easily getting a feel for the two men's personalities, and if she was picking up on it she was sure Sherlock was too. Dean seemed abrasive and ready to jump into violence while Sam was much more placid and willing to work things through. Molly could see trouble between Dean and Sherlock in the very near future, and wondered how she would stop them from butting heads.

 

“As I said, I would much prefer it if you explained yourselves. Molly and I aren't going to just climb into a car with two complete strangers that just happened to stumble upon us wondering through the desert. How stupid do you think we are?”

 

“All right, buddy, you want the truth, well here it is. We knew you would be here because there was a crazy electrical storm right around the time you two say you blacked out. Now, most people wouldn't think anything of that, but me and Sammy here, we just know better. Electrical storms are demonic omens. That means whatever brought you here is one nasty SOB. So, you can hang around with your thumb up your ass until he comes to find you, or you can come with us where you'll be safe. Let me tell ya, I won't cry for _you_ , but if that pretty little lady meets her end because you're too stubborn to come with us, it'll just break my heart.” Dean explained, then smiled in Molly's direction when he was finished. She couldn't help but blush a bit at his flattery, even though she thought he was completely mad.

 

“D-demonic omens?” She stammered, partly because Dean's smoldering gaze was still fixed on her but also because she was scared witless.

 

“Yep. Something nasty's coming this way, and I'd really like to get you somewhere safe.”

 

“You can't honestly expect us to believe something like that.” Sherlock said incredulously. “Demons. Really? There's absolutely no proof that something like that exists.”

 

“Listen, I know it all sounds crazy, and I know someone like you can't believe what we're saying, but you just have to trust us.” Sam spoke up. Molly could tell that he honestly feared for their lives. Whether the story he and his brother were telling was true or not she couldn't say, but she could certainly tell that she, and Sherlock, were in quite a bit of danger.

 

“I think we should go with them, Sherlock.” She said, looking directly at Sherlock without hesitation for probably the first time since she'd set eyes on him.

 

“Don't be ridiculous, Molly.” Sherlock rebutted, but Molly wasn't in the mood for his attitude. Demons or no demons, something was coming to hurt them, and the Winchesters seemed to want to help.

 

“I'm not compromising, Sherlock. I don't know if I believe what they're saying or not, but I know that Sam really thinks we're in danger. We've never been here before, we don't know who could be out there looking for us. It's best if we go with them. I think they can protect us.”

 

“Molly, this doesn't make any sense. For all we know, these two men could be the ones that are trying to hurt us. We can't just go getting into cars with strange American men and believing that we're safe.”

 

“Fine. Don't come then, but I'm going with them.” Molly said, crossing her arms over her chest and moving over to stand between Sam and Dean. Dean put his arm around her shoulders and smiled at Sherlock.

 

“I guess the lady has chosen her side.” He said, never losing the wolfish grin on his face.

 

“I can't allow you to go off by yourself with two men that you just met, Molly.” Sherlock argued, trying his best to convince her to stay.

 

“I guess you'll just have to come with us then.”

 

“This is ridiculous.” Sherlock said with defiance in his voice. However, Molly didn't flinch from her decision, and he finally rolled his eyes and agreed to go along.

 

“I knew you'd come around.” Dean said as he climbed into the car after opening Molly's door for her. Sherlock and Sam walked around to the other side of the car and entered their respective doors, and they were off.

 

“Where exactly are we going?” Molly asked when she realized that information hadn't been disclosed.

 

“We're staying in a motel in the closest town, it's not much but it's enough for our purposes. We'll be safe there until we can figure out what to do.” Sam answered, half turning to look at Molly from the front seat.

 

“If there are demons after us, how will we be safe in a cheap motel room?”

 

“Salt. Lots of salt.” Dean answered, glancing at her in the rear view mirror.

 

“As if I hadn't heard enough ridiculous things today. How is salt supposed to keep a demon away? It's a spice, for God's sake.” Sherlock huffed as he stared out the window at the rapidly passing desert.

 

“It just does. We've got a few devil's traps set up too. Nothing's getting into that room unless we want it there, and if it gets in, it ain't getting back out.” Dean replied.

 

“I've changed my mind, Molly, it was a wonderful idea to come with them.” Sherlock started, dragging his gaze across the backs of the Winchester's heads. “This is the perfect opportunity for me to study mental illness. I think these two in particular suffer from paranoid delusions. It's fascinating how they can function in normal society despite all the hallucinations they must have.”

 

“Sherlock, please, they're trying to help us. Do you have to be such a knob?” Molly asked, fed up with his constant sniping at the only two people that could help them. Her remark got a chuckle from Sam, but Dean didn't seem to understand the insult. Sherlock just sat staring at her, as if he didn't know what to do next. It was very rare that Sherlock Holmes was rendered speechless, but Molly had done just made it so.

 

“I think it's time for some tunes.” Dean said, trying to break the awkward silence that had filled the car after Sherlock stopped attacking him. He switched on the old radio in the car and some kind of rock and roll from the 80's began to blare through the speakers. Sherlock rolled his eyes so visibly, that Molly thought they might roll out of his head and into the floor.

 

“Charming.” He commented with a scowl on his face.

 

“What? Sorry, I can't hear you over all the awesome up here.” Dean smirked back in the rear view mirror, cranking the volume up even louder. Molly couldn't help but smile. Despite Sherlock's obvious hate and mistrust for their new companions, she really quite liked them. Sam seemed like a nice, sensitive man that only wanted to help, and Dean seemed like someone that would be fun to be around, if only for his horrible jokes and sarcasm. Molly had never been to America, and despite her current situation, she had the feeling she was going to enjoy it.

 

They reached a run down looking motel only a few minutes after Dean had started the music, and were quickly out of the car and into an equally run down room within a minute of arriving. The Winchesters immediately started pouring salt at the threshold and on all the window sills after making sure everything was locked.

 

“That should do it.” Sam said, tying up the bag he had been pouring salt out of and throwing it to the side. “All you two have to do is stay in this room until we find out what's after you.”

 

“And if you wanna leave, you'll have to be with one, or both of us. For safety.” Dean smirked in Molly's direction, undressing her with his eyes. She suddenly felt very exposed and decided to have a seat in one of the chairs that sat around a small table, pulling her sweater closed across her chest and crossing her arms in front.

 

“Do you have any more evidence?” Sherlock suddenly asked, clasping his hands behind his back and beginning to pace back and forth in front of the door.

 

“Evidence for what?” Dean asked.

 

“That these _demons_ really exist. I'm not one to turn down hard facts, so if you have any evidence, I suggest you present it now. The only way I can believe what you're telling me is if it's the only explanation. Once you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth. Right now, the impossible for us is that demons actually exist and are walking among us, and want Molly and myself, for whatever reason. However, the fact that we were in London at 5:00 and ended up in New Mexico at 5:30 is troubling. I'm really trying to understand what happened, and for me that isn't normally a difficult feat. So, please, I'm willing to see the evidence, if you're willing to show me.”

 

“Well, it's all gonna sound really crazy.” Sam chimed in, sitting on the edge of one of the beds in the small room.

 

“Tell ya what, Sammy. How about you and miss Molly here go and dig up some grub and I'll stay here with Sherlock and fill him in on what we know about demons.” Dean said, removing his brown leather jacket and taking a leather bound journal from the inner pocket, then tossing the keys for the car to Sam. He nodded and looked at Molly for confirmation.

 

“Now that you mention it, I am rather famished.” Molly added, smiling at Sam and getting up from her chair, which Sherlock quickly took in her stead. “You two have to promise that you won't throttle each other before we get back, though.”

 

“Molly, I assure you I won't resort to violence, although I can't speak for Dean.” Sherlock said, steepling his hands under his chin and looking at Dean, who was now sitting on the edge of his bed looking back at Sherlock.

 

“Don't worry your pretty little head, Molly. I won't hurt your boyfriend.” Dean smiled.

 

“He's not...” Molly blushed, then turned to leave the room with Sam. “Never mind. Can we just go?”

 

“We'll be back soon, and I'll fill Molly in while we're gone.” Sam said, opening the door for Molly and following her out of the room.

 


	2. Chapter 2

“So,” Sam said after he and Molly had gotten into the car, “what's the deal with your friend?”

 

“Sherlock? Well, I don't really know if you could call him a friend...More of a colleague, really. I've only known him for about a month. Back in London he's kind of a...private detective. The police consult with him on some cases when they can't solve them. He's really rather smart. I'd call him a genius, although some people like to think he's a psychopath.” Molly explained, revealing a little more than Sherlock probably would have liked.

 

“He sounds kind of like us. Without the genius part.” Sam said with a smile as he pulled out of their parking spot and headed into the small town they were staying in.

 

“I don't know, you two seem like you know what you're doing. You don't have to know everything about everything to be a genius.” Molly smiled coyly at Sam and got a small smile in return. “Sherlock isn't normally wrong about things, so I'd say you're really rather smart if he's noticed it. He also doesn't give out compliments regularly.”

 

“I picked up on that. I understand that this is hard to take in, but we really are trying to help you. There's been some crazy stuff going on around here lately. We just can't be too careful.”

 

“So, what is it exactly that the two of you do, again?” Molly asked with real interest.

 

“You wouldn't believe me if I told you.” Sam replied, shaking his head a bit.

 

“Try me.” Molly said, smiling in his direction. He turned and looked at her for a moment, then returned the smile and began his explanation.

 

“Well, me and Dean, we kind of...hunt supernatural creatures. Our Mom was killed by one when I was a baby, and our Dad vowed after that to get revenge for her murder. Our whole lives we've been trained on how to fight these things. Ghosts, vampires, you name it we've probably killed it.” Sam chanced a look at Molly who was sitting with her mouth hanging open in the passenger seat. “I'm sorry, this is probably too much...”

 

“No, go on.” Molly urged, which earned another smile from Sam.

 

“Recently we've been on the trail of a particular demon, the one that killed our Mom, and we're closing in. I think he knows it, too. It seems like he's been...recruiting people to help him fight against us.”

 

“And you think we're in danger because...?”

 

“Well, you said it yourself, Sherlock is a genius. He knows just about everything, as far as I can tell, and the way he just told us our whole life story when we met him...”

 

“It can be a bit overwhelming, I know.” Molly smiled, remembering the first time she'd met Sherlock. He'd told her about her cat, Toby, the way she almost religiously had one glass of wine every day after work, her favorite TV shows and foods, all from one look at her. She could see why a demon might want a power like that.

 

“I think that's a bit of an understatement.” Sam laughed. “Anyway, the only way that we can kill this demon is with a special gun. It's said that it can kill anything, and we just so happen to have it.”

 

“You think the demon wants Sherlock because he could deduce the fact that you have a way to kill him?”

 

“As far as we know we've been under the radar. We keep the gun in the trunk, which has a special seal to keep demons and other supernatural things out. They can't see or get in there to figure out that we have it, but Sherlock could.”

 

“Sherlock would never help something so evil.” Molly said, hoping to raise Sam's spirits a bit, but it didn't seem to help.

 

“Probably not on his own, but demonic possession is a real thing, Molly. If a demon got into Sherlock...”

 

“Oh..” Molly whispered, realizing the gravity of the situation.

 

“Exactly. That's why we're so desperate to keep you guys out of harm's way. That and the fact that what we do...we save people every day. If we see something potentially dangerous in someone's future, we have to find a way to stop it. Getting Sherlock back to the motel was a little bit of a test. Like we said, we have a devil's trap in the room somewhere. If he were possessed, he wouldn't be able to leave the circle. He passed through it a few times while he was pacing before we left, so we know that nothing's gotten to him yet.”

 

“Yet?”

 

“We're doing our best to keep anything from getting to him at all. That's why we put down salt lines.”

 

“This is all a bit much at one time.” Molly said, pressing her hand to her forehead and staring out the window of the car. “I never would have imagined that things like this _actually_ exist.”

 

“Yeah, we get that a lot.” Sam said, pulling into the parking lot of a small diner. “Do you wanna come in with me or would you rather stay out here?”

 

“I'll be fine here, I think.”

 

“Want anything in particular?”

 

“A burger and some chips would be lovely, thanks.” Molly smiled.

 

“Got it, be back in a second. And Molly, if anything happens out here that you think is weird, anything at all, come and get me.” Sam said, suddenly turning serious before he got out of the car, looked around the parking lot, and then walked into the diner. Molly tried to seem confident about what was happening, but everything that Sam had told her was beginning to get to her. She sat in the passenger seat of the car, wringing her hands, trying not to think about the possibility of something out of ghost stories sneaking up behind her. It was all she could do not to jump out of the car and go running into the diner to cling to Sam for dear life.

 

“Get a hold of yourself, Molly.” She said to herself, trying to still her hands from their frantic, nervous movement. She looked around the car, nothing out of the ordinary. She caught sight of a couple getting out of their car and walking toward the diner, which Dean's car was parked right in front of. Just an ordinary couple, a tall man with dark hair and a blonde woman hanging on his arm. She thought they were going to walk right past, but when they stopped at the car she had the feeling there would be trouble.

 

“Hi there.” The man said with a devilish smile. “You wouldn't happen to be Molly Hooper, would you?”

 

“I...I don't know who you're talking about.” Molly said, trying to lie her way out of a conflict. She was, admittedly, not a very good liar, though, and the man saw right through her.

 

“Really? I could have sworn you were the one Azazel brought over from London. Where's your friend?” The man asked again as his companion stood outside of the car scanning the area. His eyes suddenly turned black, and Molly let out a gasp. Her eyes shot to the diner where Sam was standing in line, ordering the food they'd come to retrieve. She could try to scream, but she doubted he would hear her in there. She backed away from the door as the man opened it, climbing into the car with her. The woman wasn't far behind, climbing into the back seat and closing the door behind her.

 

“What do you want?” Molly asked, her voice shaky from fear as she continued to scramble away from the man that had entered the car. She stopped when she hit the driver's side door.

 

“We want to know where you're keeping Sherlock. Azazel brought him here for a reason, and we know that Sam and Dean are hiding him somewhere, we just can't quite figure out where. So, we're gonna need your help.”

 

“I'll never tell you.”

 

“Oh sweetie,” The woman said from the back seat, reaching out to stroke a strand of Molly's hair. “You won't need to tell us.”

 

“Leave me alone!” Molly yelled, wrenching the door open and falling out of the car, then scrambling back on the pavement. To her shock, the people who had entered the car were unable to exit again.

 

“You little bitch!” The man yelled, trying his best to follow her out the door. He checked the ignition for the keys, but Sam had taken them with him when he went into the diner. Molly stood up, wondering what was keeping them from coming after her, but she didn't want to stick around, just in case they broke free. It took every bit of her self control not to run screaming into the diner, but as soon as she got there Sam could tell something was wrong. He took the food from the counter and rushed to her as soon as he saw her.

 

“What's going on?” He asked, concerned for her obviously troubled mental state.

 

“There are two people...well, maybe not people...they're in your car. Sam, they said they're after Sherlock. They mentioned someone called Azazel. I...I don't know what they want...I think they were trying to hurt me. It doesn't seem like they can get out.” Molly explained as quietly as she could in her adrenaline fueled state. Sam immediately understood what was happening when Molly explained herself and took her by the arm, rushing out of the diner and back to the car. He didn't look scared, though. If anything, he looked confident, determined. When they reached the car, the couple that had ambushed Molly were still sitting there, staring daggers at the two of them as they approached.

 

“I guess you didn't expect there to be a devil's trap in the car?” Sam asked, sitting the bags of diner food on the hood of the car and bending down to look in the window.

 

“Let us out.” The woman in the back seat demanded, her eyes turning the same jet black as the man's had when he was talking to Molly.

 

“I don't think so. You're gonna tell me what your buddy is planning, or I'm gonna send you straight back to hell.”

 

“What, you're just gonna perform an exorcism right here in the parking lot? I don't think so. That'd be a little bit of a scene.” The man hissed.

 

“You're powerless in there. All I have to do is get in and drive you somewhere more private.” Sam said with a smirk, dangling the keys from his index finger.

 

“Just because we don't have any powers doesn't mean we can't fight you off. We can still kill you, and your little friend, it would just be a bit more messy.”

 

“I guess we'll just have to hang out here until it's safe, then.”

 

“Sam, what's going on?” Molly asked shyly from his side. The demons turned their attention to her when she spoke, staring at her as if she were a piece of meat.

 

“She would be so easy to kill.” The woman purred. “I can just imagine snapping her pretty little neck.”

 

Molly's hand went to her throat as the woman spoke. She knew all too well how quickly someone could be killed by snapping their neck. It would be relatively painless for the victim, and instant, which means there would be no way that Sam would be able to stop it from happening.

 

“Don't count on it.” Sam said sternly, then took Molly's hand, and the food they'd just purchased, and walked to a set of picnic tables that sat close to the entrance of the diner. He could see that she was obviously flustered, who wouldn't be after a threat like that? He sat down and Molly followed suit.

 

“Why do they want to kill me?” She asked, wringing her hands again in the way she always did when she was nervous.

 

“They talk big, but they can't get to us. They're trapped in there unless someone breaks the trap, which isn't going to happen. You're safe, don't worry.” Sam said, placing a hand over hers. Molly bit her lip and looked up at him, finally able to still her hands while they were covered by his.

 

“So what now?” She asked, looking back toward the smirking demons in the car.

 

“I'll call Dean, see if he has any ideas.” He said, standing up and walking away from Molly to call his brother. All she could think about were the two demons in the car. How bad they wanted Sherlock, how bad they wanted to kill her. She couldn't understand what they'd ever done to bring this on, but she supposed Sherlock's talents were the only reason the demons needed. When Sam returned she had started wringing her hands again, tears forming in her eyes.

 

“Whoa, uh...are you okay?” He asked, sitting down beside her and placing a hand on her shoulder.

 

“I just...I don't understand. Why do they want us? What did we ever do?” Molly sobbed. The stress of the day had been too much for her, she just couldn't take it anymore. She broke down, sobs racking her body as she cried into her hands, when she felt Sam put his arm around her shoulders and pull her close to him. For some reason, she felt so comfortable with him, like she'd known him all her life. She didn't fight his attempts at consoling her, and instead leaned into his shoulder, letting herself cry until she couldn't shed another tear.

 

“I know this is all really hard. It was hard for me too, when I first found out that all this stuff was real.” Sam said, placing a finger under her chin and lifting her head up so that she was looking at him. “I won't let anything bad happen to you, or Sherlock. I'm going to get you out of this, and back to London. It's my job to save people, and that's what I'm going to do.”

 

“What are we going to do about them?” Molly asked, wiping the tears from her eyes and sniffling.

 

“We're gonna wait until dark and then I'm going to exorcise them.”

 

“What about Dean and Sherlock?”

 

“It's safer if they don't leave the room. The demons can't get to them.”

 

“What if more of them come for us? How do we know who they are?” Molly asked.

 

“Well, we don't, really. They could be anyone, we just have to be cautious. Here, take this.” Sam said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a silver hip flask with a cross engraved in the front and handing it to her.

 

“What's this?” She asked, taking the flask and tracing the engraving with her index finger.

 

“Holy water. It won't keep them away for long, but demons hate the stuff. If one gets too close, all you have to do is splash some of this on them and they'll back up.”

 

“So, now we wait?”

 

“Now we wait.” Sam answered, taking his arm back and leaning back against the picnic table. Molly sat thinking for a long time, the sun had started to go down behind the diner and the sky had turned a lovely shade of pink. She'd been thinking about asking him about his job the whole time, and she finally got the courage to do it.

 

“Sam, can I ask you a question?” She asked, turning to look at him as he lounged against the table. The light from the setting sun hitting him so perfectly that Molly couldn't help but smile.

 

“Sure.” He answered with a small smile.

 

“Why do you do it? Hunt these things, I mean. Isn't it dangerous?”

 

“Very.”

 

“Then why?” Molly asked, brushing a strand of hair out of her eyes.

 

“I told you about my Mom. I was too young to even remember her, but Dean wasn't. Dad and Dean fought supernatural stuff my whole life, so I guess I just kind of...grew into it. Me and my Dad, we didn't get along too well. He didn't want me to go to college, he was too blinded by getting revenge on the demon that killed Mom. He told me if I went away, I shouldn't come back, so that's what I did. Until Dean showed up and told me Dad was missing.” Sam explained, sitting up and putting his elbows on his knees, staring off toward the car.

 

“Did you ever find him?”

 

“Not yet, but we're catching up to him, I think. Why else would all these demons be on our trail? Dad knows where Azazel is, and if we catch up to Dad, we catch up to him too. I think he's worried he can't handle all three of the Winchesters at the same time.”

 

“So that's the reason you hunt, then.” Molly said, feeling as if she'd gotten the answer she wanted.

 

“Not all of it.” Sam started again. “I went on one hunt with Dean, to try and track down Azazel, but we didn't find him, so he took me back to school. Back to my apartment, where my girlfriend, Jess, and I lived. When I got back she was...Azazel had killed her, I saw her after...I just can't let him get away with it. He killed my Mom and my girlfriend. I was gonna ask her to marry me, and he can't go on breathing if she can't.”

 

“Sam...I'm so sorry.” Molly said, feeling like it was her turn to do the comforting now. “You didn't have to...I mean...I'm sorry I made you talk about it.”

 

“No, it's okay, it keeps me going, ya know? If I forget why I'm out here doing this, then there isn't really a reason for me to keep doing it.” Sam said with a sad smile. “It also doesn't hurt that you're so easy to talk to.”

 

Molly blushed and looked down at her lap, if there's one thing she's not good at, it's taking compliments. She heard Sam chuckle a bit, then looked up to catch him staring. He immediately looked away and to the diner, where all the lights had been turned off.

 

“I think now's as good a time as any.” He said, pushing himself to his feet and waiting for Molly to do the same, grateful to be able to change the subject. “Let's go exorcise some demons.”

 

“Are you ready to give up yet?” The man sitting in the front of the car asked as Sam walked around to the back. “What do you say you let us out of here and we can talk about this?”

 

“Yeah, I'm sure that'll go over really well.” Sam answered, opening the trunk to reveal a large box. He opened the box and Molly gasped at the arsenal she saw. He propped it open with a pistol grip shotgun and began digging around, then pulled out a book that had strange writing on the cover.

 

“If you do this, we'll come back and kill you.” The woman hissed from the back seat as Sam walked around to the driver's side of the car.

 

“Have fun clawing your way back out of hell.” Same replied, then opened the book, turned to a specific page, and began to read. “ _Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica._

_Ergo draco maledicte_...”

 

“I'll kill you!” The man screamed, clutching the frame of the door so hard that his knuckles turned white. Sam didn't stop, though. He just kept reading through the demon's threats.

 

“ _et omnis legio diabolica adjuramus te. Cessa decipere humanas creaturas, eisque aeternae Perditionis venenum propinare. Vade, Satana, inventor et magister omnis fallaciae, hostis humanae salutis. Humiliare sub potenti manu dei, contremisce et effuge, invocato a nobis sancto et terribili nomine, quem inferi tremunt_.” His Latin was impeccable. Molly had only studied it for a semester while she was at university, and she had never gotten that good. She supposed he'd had a lot more practice, though. The demons writhed in the car, trying to claw their way out as the chant threatened to rip them out of their hosts. “ _Ab insidiis diaboli, libera nos, Domine. Ut Ecclesiam tuam secura tibi facias libertate servire te rogamus, audi nos. Ut inimicos sanctae Ecclesiae humiliare digneris, te rogamus, audi nos. Terribilis Deus de sanctuario suo. Deus Israhel ipse truderit virtutem et fortitudinem plebi Suae. Benedictus deus. Gloria patri_.”

 

As soon as the last word was uttered the demons threw back their heads and began to scream, black smoke pouring from the mouths and out into the open air. Sam closed the book, threw it back in the trunk, and shut it tight, then stood by and waited for it to be over. When the smoke had cleared, the bodies of the two people the demons had been possessing laid limp in the seats of the car.

 

“Are they...” Molly stopped short of the real question she wanted to ask, looking to Sam for the answer. He only nodded and went to pull them out of the car. “What do we do with them?”

 

“We burn them.” Sam replied, moving the man's body to the back seat with the woman. “Not here, though. We'll go back to the room and get Sherlock and Dean, then take these two out to the desert.”

 

“Do they all die?”

 

“Not always, but it's hard to tell how much damage those two did to these people while they were inside them. Sometimes we can't save them.”

 

“You do this kind of thing often?”

 

“Almost every day, unfortunately.” Sam said, starting the car and backing out of the parking spot to make his way back to the motel.

 

“I'm sorry you have to go through things like this.” Molly started, looking down at her hands in her lap. “You seem like a really nice guy and...I just wish you didn't have to do it.”

 

“It's all part of the job. If we want to keep things like what happened to our family from happening to other people, we have to do it.”

 

“You're on the side of the angels, Sam Winchester. What you're doing is good. I hope you realize that.”

 

“Sometimes I wonder.” Sam replied, glancing at Molly and then back at the road. The rest of the ride was in silence, and when they pulled up outside of the motel, Sherlock and Dean were already waiting for them. They walked up to the car and took a look inside.

 

“Damn demons keeping me from my dinner. I'm starving and now it's cold.” Dean complained as he opened the back door and shoved the dead bodies to one side. He held out his hand, gesturing for Sherlock to get in the car, which he reluctantly did, and then climbed in after him.

 

“Are you alright, Molly?” Sherlock asked without hesitation.

 

“I'm a bit shaken up, but I'll be fine. They didn't hurt me. Did Dean explain everything to you?” Molly asked, turning to look at Sherlock.

 

“Yes. I have to admit, they have quite a bit of evidence for their case. I can almost believe they're telling the truth.”

 

“I saw them, Sherlock. With my own eyes. Those people back there, they were possessed. They wanted to...they wanted to know where you were.”

 

“Why would they want to know that?” Sherlock asked, eying the dead bodies that were piled in the seat beside him.

 

“I think they want your gifts.” Sam said, backing the car up again and heading toward the desert that Molly and Sherlock were found in.

 

“What gifts?”

 

“You know, the thing you do where you look at someone and know their whole life story.” Dean said, in exasperation. “This guy...”

 

“How could that possibly help them? If they're demons then they already have far more power than I could even dream of.”

 

“There are some things they can't do. That's one of them. They're looking for something that can stop them, and they don't know how to find it. If one of them possesses you, then they can look at anyone and tell if they have it or not.” Sam explained while Dean face palmed in the back seat.

 

“And what is this mysterious item they're looking for?” Sherlock asked, looking back and forth between Sam and Dean.

 

“Like we would tell you that.” Dean said with a snort of laughter. “If we tell you and a demon gets to you, they already have the upper hand. You see, when a demon possess you, you're not just switched off like a light. The demon knows everything you know. Your memories, your deepest fears, your darkest secrets. You're trapped in your own head while someone else is working you like a puppet. So you don't get to know.”

 

“You mean those people were...trapped in there? However long those demons were possessing them they were just...just suffering?” Molly asked, horrified at this new piece of information that Sam had left out of his explanation.

 

“Unless they kill you first and then take over your body, but most of them don't have the manners for that.”

 

“Oh my God...” Molly gasped, shaking her head, unable to even imagine what those poor people must have been going through.

 

“How do we stop it from happening?” Sherlock asked, ignoring Molly's panic attack in the front seat.

 

“Other than hiding behind salt lines and trapping them in devil's traps, we can't. At least not that we know of. These evil sons of bitches can possess anyone in the world any time they want to, and we can't do a thing to stop it. We can only exorcise them once we identify someone as a demon, and that ain't a cakewalk, either.”

 

“So, it's fairly hopeless, then?”

 

“Well, no.” Sam chimed in, a bit of irritation in his voice. “We can send them back to hell, so it's not totally hopeless.”

 

“How many demons have the two of you sent back to hell successfully?” Sherlock asked, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

 

“Do you have any idea how hard it is to exorcise a demon?” Dean asked.

 

“I'd assume it's just a few lines of Latin.”

 

“More than a few, buddy. And you can't just exorcise them without trapping them first. They could get away. It's not easy to trick those assholes without putting your own life in danger. So yeah, it's more than just a few lines of Latin!” Dean yelled.

 

“Alright, enough. We don't need to argue about this stuff. Let's just take care of the bodies and go back to the motel. We'll figure out a game plan then.” Sam interjected, trying to keep his brother and Sherlock from tearing each other apart in the back seat of the car.

 

Once Sam was sure they were far enough out, he pulled over to the side of the narrow dirt road they'd been driving on and exited the car. Molly and the others did the same, and Sam and Dean got busy moving the bodies. Sherlock seemed interested in examining them, but Dean wasn't having any of that.

 

“You really are a freak, you know that?” He said, dropping the body of the woman far enough away from the car so that it was safe to burn.

 

“I've been told as much on several occasions back in London.” Sherlock replied, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his trousers.

 

“Yeah, well, maybe you should take that to heart.”

 

“Dean.” Sam said sternly, digging a book of matches out of his pocket. Dean grabbed a gas can and walked over to the bodies, dumping the liquid onto them until nothing remained in the can. Sam ignited the matches and threw them onto the bodies, which went up in flames in a matter of seconds.

 

“You mean there isn't some barbaric chant to perform while they burn?” Sherlock asked sarcastically.

 

“Shut up.” Dean replied with an eye roll, and they all stood by to watch while the bodies burned away to nothing.

 


	3. Chapter 3

It was more than a little disturbing watching bodies burning in the middle of the desert, and Molly couldn't force herself to say anything at all on the ride back to the motel. Sherlock and Dean continued to snipe at each other while Sam tried to make them stop, but all Molly could see were the two innocent people that had to die because something evil took over their bodies. It was all she could do not to cry. Normally dead bodies didn't bother her, she was a pathologist, after all. However, the idea that something else had been wearing those bodies like a disguise was enough to make her sick to her stomach. The car stopped, but Molly didn't really know why until Sam's voice broke through the fog of her thoughts.

 

“Molly, we're back.” He said gently from outside her door. She looked around to see that everyone else had already exited the car, and Sam opened her door for her to climb out as well. “Are you okay?”

 

“Not really.” She answered quietly, looking up at Sam as he closed the door to the car. “I'm just...I'm a pathologist. Things like this, they don't usually get to me. There was just something about the idea of what those monsters did to those poor people...it really bothers me. It just makes me want to stop them.”

 

“That's a dangerous thought.” Sam said, beginning to walk toward the room they would be staying in. Sherlock and Dean had already gone, no doubt too consumed by another pointless argument to notice Molly and Sam lagging behind. “That's a little like what I was thinking when I decided I wanted to keep hunting.”

 

“Can you teach me the chant?”

 

“What?” Sam asked, shocked at Molly's sudden interest, and slight change of subject.

 

“I just...if I'm going to be dealing with this...if they want me dead...I just feel like I should know it. Just in case I'm in trouble when you and Dean aren't around.”

 

“I won't leave you alone, Molly.”

 

“Please teach me.” She said, stopping in her tracks and looking up at Sam. He took a deep breath and sighed.

 

“Fine. You can study it tonight, I'll teach you. You should really try and get some sleep, though.” Sam agreed reluctantly. Molly couldn't help herself. She was so ecstatic at his decision that she threw her arms around him, catching him off guard. It took him a moment, but he returned the embrace.

 

“Thank you, Sam. Thank you.” She said happily, then let him go and continued the rest of the way to the room. When the two of them got back, Dean gave his brother a look that Molly didn't quite understand, and Sam just rolled his eyes and closed the door behind him. They fixed all the salt lines, making sure that nothing could get into the room while they were there, and then settled in for the night.

 

“So, there are only two beds. I'd be more than happy to share mine.” Dean said, smiling in Molly's direction.

 

“I won't be sleeping tonight.” Sherlock chimed in from one of the chairs sitting around the table by the window. “The three of you can split the beds however you see fit. Although, Molly, I wouldn't suggest sharing a bed with Dean. He seems a bit eager to get you into one.”

 

“I don't think I'll be doing much sleeping either, actually. You boys feel free to do whatever you want.” Molly said with a smile. “But, Dean, I was actually wondering if I could talk to you in private for a moment.”

 

“Yeah, sure. Whatever the lady wants.” Dean replied, sauntering to her side and following her out the door of the room and out into the parking lot. “So, what can I do for you?”

 

“Actually, I was wondering if you might be able to teach me how to fight.” Molly said with all the confidence she could muster, which was shortly crushed by a snickering laugh from Dean.

 

“You want me to teach you to fight? No offense honey, but you don't really look like the sparring type.”

 

“I want you to teach me so I can defend myself from...whatever is coming.”

 

“Do you have any experience at all?”

 

“Why don't we find somewhere to spar and I'll show you.” Molly said calmly, which piqued Dean's interest.

 

“Alright then, follow me.” He said with a smirk and then set off to find a secluded place. He was satisfied with an alley behind the motel and turned to face her, that same smirk still displayed proudly on his face. Molly intended to wipe it right off.

 

“What now?” She asked, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

 

“Show me what you can do.” Dean said, putting his fists up to guard his face. Molly hadn't practiced in a while, but when she was in university she had taken some self defense classes, and had been rather good. She thought she remembered the general idea, and was confident that once she started again she would fall right back into line. She hesitated the first time, which gave Dean a chance to read her movements. She stepped forward and threw a punch with her right arm, but Dean easily caught it and twisted it behind her back, pinning her against a wall.

 

“Too slow. Don't hesitate next time.” He said, releasing her and taking up his stance again. Molly regained her composure quickly and then lunged at Dean again, this time from the left. When he made to catch her arm she quickly pivoted and swung with her right, making contact this time, then putting her fists back up to guard her face.

 

“I forgot to mention that I took kickboxing classes back home. It was a while ago, but I think I remember most of it.” Molly smiled as Dean wiped a bit of blood from the split lip Molly had given him. He smiled and cocked his head to the side a bit.

 

“That's a hell of a right hook, but there's one thing you have to remember when you're fighting with supernatural creatures.”

 

“What's that?” Molly asked, letting her guard down for a moment. That was obviously a mistake, because as soon as she did Dean lunged at her, putting her in a head lock that could have easily drained all the life from her body.

 

“They don't fight fair.” He whispered in her ear as he held her tightly from behind. Molly's hands rested on his forearm, as if to try and pull it away, but she knew she wasn't in any real danger with him. He released her soon after his words of wisdom and smiled at her again. “You really aren't too bad, though. With me and Sam around, you should be able to fend for yourself a little. Just don't be afraid to call for the big strong man's help.”

 

“Yeah, I'll be sure to remember that.” Molly giggled as Dean stood in the dim light of the alley way flexing his arms. “So, how much trouble are we really in here?”

 

“Darling, we're up the creek without a paddle. Those demons can't get their hands on Sherlock, or we'll be in a hell of a lot more.”

 

“You can't let them have him, Dean.” Molly said, suddenly turning serious. “I...I really care about him, you know? If something happened to him...I'm not sure what I would do.”

 

“Hey, don't worry about your friend. We're gonna keep him safe, and you too. It's what we do.” Dean said, taking a step closer to Molly. He would be the first to admit that anything that involved feelings wasn't really his cup of tea, but he felt like he needed to do something to comfort Molly.

 

“I just know that he would be a really useful tool for them. The things Sherlock can do...I've never seen anyone do anything like it. If something evil had that power...” Molly pulled her sweater closed tightly across her chest and crossed her arms in front, as if to keep all of her negative feelings out.

 

“They won't get him, Molly. When me and Sam say we're going to protect someone, we mean it. Plus, Sam really likes you, he won't let anything bad happen to you or Sherlock as long as he's breathing.” Dean said softly. Molly looked up at him when he mentioned Sam. She'd thought that she was just reading signals wrong before. Sam couldn't possibly have any feelings for her, especially since he'd just lost his previous girlfriend, someone that he was totally in love with. She couldn't deny that she had a certain connection with him, though. Lately it seemed like she didn't know what she wanted. Before everything happened, Sherlock had been the only person she could ever think about being with, but now that she'd met Sam, her head was always a jumble of thoughts about the two of them.

 

“He...likes me?” She said in an unsure tone, looking to Dean for more information.

 

“Are you kidding me? Any bozo could figure it out. That kid can't keep his eyes off you. Haven't you noticed?”

 

“I just thought he was looking out for me.”

 

“Yeah, he is, but I think he's looking out for something else too, if you get my drift.” Dean said, a sly smile on his face. Molly blushed and averted her eyes. “I mean...It's not like he's a pervert or anything. Sam is a good kid. Just...uh...give him a chance, if you think you like him.”

 

“What about his girlfriend?” Molly asked suddenly, obviously catching Dean off guard.

 

“He told you about that?”

 

“Well, he told me that he was going to propose to her, but she died...because of this demon you two have been hunting. I know the same one killed you Mum, and now your Dad has gone missing looking for it.” Molly looked down, clasping her hands in front of her. “I just...I didn't think he would be ready for anything after...after the woman he loved was murdered.”

 

“Look, I know Sam really loved that girl, but she's gone now. We can't bring her back from the dead, especially not after the way she died, no matter what else we _can_ do. I think he's moved on. By the way he looks at you, I'd say he's ready. Listen, this really isn't my thing, you might just wanna talk to him about it.” Dean said, trying to brush off the subject and go back to the room where he wouldn't have to talk about feelings. However, at the moment, Molly was kind of wishing that she could do anything _but_ go back to that room. After what Dean had told her about Sam, she wasn't sure what her heart wanted, and going back to the room with the two men she was constantly thinking about didn't really sound like the best plan.

 

“Yeah, I guess you're right.” She said with a sigh, beginning to walk out of the alley. Dean kept pace with her, walking at her side. “You know, I thought that I loved Sherlock. Ever since I first saw him...there's just something about him...he's too perfect. He'll never love me, though. He doesn't really...I mean...he's not exactly the caring type.”

 

“Go figure.” Dean said with a snort.

 

“But Sam is...kind and sweet and charming. He's basically everything that Sherlock isn't. So, why is it so hard for me to get Sherlock out of my head?”

 

“Beats me. I think he's just about the biggest asshole I've ever met.”

 

“I suppose you're right about that.” Molly giggled. “He just doesn't know how to act around people. Normal people, I mean. His whole life he's been around his brother, who's also a genius, in case that needed clarifying. The two of them just don't really see any need for relationships. They think they're better off without them, I suppose.”

 

“Well, I can kind of understand that.” Dean said, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “Living the kind of life that Sam and I live, it's kind of hard to get attached to people, ya know? It's dangerous being on the road all the time, hunting things that normal people don't even think are real. Sometimes I just think I'm better off alone.”

 

“I'm sure you don't have any trouble finding willing women, Dean. You're really quite attractive.” Molly said boldly. Usually she wouldn't have said something so forward, but since they were both being so open about things, she decided it wouldn't be a bad thing to say. Dean looked at her and smiled, taking her compliment in stride. They reached the door before he could think of a response, and they were met with the stares of Sam and Sherlock upon entering. Sam noticed the gash on his brother's lip and grew immediately concerned.

 

“What happened out there? Are you two okay?” He asked, rising from his seat and clearing the distance between the edge of the bed and the doorway in three quick strides.

 

“Yeah, yeah, everything's fine. I was just teaching Molly here how to fight, and she didn't really need my help. She taught me a lesson or two.” Dean replied, gesturing to his lip.

 

“You did that?” Sam asked with an amused smile, looking down at Molly who was shyly smiling in front of him.

 

“I didn't mean to hurt him.” She replied, blushing.

 

“He probably deserved it.” Sherlock chimed in. “God knows what he tried to do to you in that alley way.”

 

“Sherlock.” Molly said sternly as Dean smoldered beside her.

 

“Oh, come on Molly. He's constantly making inappropriate comments about you and not so subtly offering sexual encounters. You can't blame me for being suspicious.”

 

“I don't know, Molly. You say that he can't care about anyone, but it sure seems like he's concerned about you.” Dean remarked, striding over to his bed and kicking off his shoes before throwing himself down on it. Molly blushed a little as Sherlock studied her, and she knew that he'd probably deduced her feelings for him. She could have throttled Dean for that, especially because the look on Sam's face at the mention of her interest in Sherlock absolutely broke her heart. Molly raked her fingers through her hair and sat down at the foot of the bed that Dean wasn't occupying and just stared at the floor.

 

“Well, I'll be in my mind palace, if anyone needs me.” Sherlock said, breaking the silence that had filled the room and earning two strange looks from Dean and Sam. He steepled his hands under his chin and reclined in the uncomfortable chair he was sitting in, and Molly knew that he wouldn't be listening to anything happening in the room for the rest of the night.

 

“Mind palace?” Sam asked with a grin.

 

“It's how he remembers so much. He categorically organizes information in his own head, like a filing cabinet, except...well...it's a palace. When he wants to find something, he goes into sort of a...meditative state, and searches for it.” Molly explained, untying her sneakers and placing them neatly at the foot of the bed.

 

“So he's kinda comatose right now, then?” Dean asked, staring at the tall, lanky man sprawled out in the small chair.

 

“That pretty much sums it up, yes.” Molly answered. “But that doesn't mean he won't snap out of it if you toy with him, so I wouldn't try anything.”

 

“Well, I'm gonna hit the hay. You two love birds don't stay up too late.” Dean joked, turning down the blankets on his bed and then climbing in to bury himself. Molly blushed and Sam wouldn't make eye contact, both feeling more than a bit awkward at everything that had happened since everyone had been back in the same room.

 

“So...uh....are you ready to learn that incantation?” Sam asked, pulling the book that he'd read the exorcism from out of the inside pocket of his coat.

 

“If you're willing to teach me.” Molly smiled, patting a spot on the bed beside her. He looked a bit nervous, but made his way over and sat as far away from her as he could on the queen sized bed.

 

“Well, it's pretty straight forward. The really hard part is getting the pronunciations right.” Sam started, opening the book to the page he'd read from before. “This is the basic exorcism that we use. It's really long, so we always have to be sure the demon is trapped before we can read it, otherwise they'll just get away.”

 

“I studied a little Latin in university. I'm afraid I'm a bit rusty now.” Molly said, scooting a bit closer to Sam, who seemed to notice her small movement and swallowed hard as he turned his attention back to the book.

 

“H-here, why don't you try it.” He stuttered, clearly a bit flustered at their closeness. Molly reached over to take the book and her fingers brushed against his, which cause both of them to blush and hurry their movements.

 

“Just...start here.” He said, pointing to the first line on the page. Molly recited the first few lines almost as well as he had when he was exorcising the demons in the car earlier that day. “You're a natural. Are you sure you've never done this before?”

 

“Pretty sure.” Molly smiled, then turned to look at Sam, who was smiling back at her. Dean was right about one thing, the way Sam looked at her made her feel like she was the only person left in the entire world. This type of attention wasn't something she would ever get from Sherlock, but she couldn't help but feel a little guilty thinking about abandoning her feelings for him.

 

“You catch on really quickly, and not everyone can get a hit on my brother, so I'd say you're progressing fast in that area too. You wouldn't consider a second career as a hunter...” Sam asked with a playful smile that let Molly know he was only kidding.

 

“Maybe, if it means I get to see you every day.” Molly answered. She hadn't intended on that particular thought actually leaving her mind, but Sam's reaction to it was good. Molly scooted a bit closer to him and held up the book. “How's this one pronounced again?”

 

“Doh-me-nay” He sounded out the word for her and she repeated it.

 

“ _Domine.”_

 

“Yeah, that's it.”

 

“You're a good teacher.” Molly said, resting the book on her lap. “It's nice to have someone teaching me that doesn't use sarcasm as a corrective device.”

 

“That's something that he does?” Sam asked, nodding toward Sherlock, who was still deep within the confines of his mind palace. Molly nodded slightly.

 

“He means well, he really does, he's just so much more clever than everyone else. It's hard for him to comprehend why everyone around him can't understand what he sees, sometimes.”

 

“Do you love him?”

 

“I'm not really sure.” Molly started, wringing her hands in her lap and sighing deeply. “I know he doesn't understand feelings like that. He probably doesn't even realize that I'm interested. Sherlock doesn't have time for relationships and love, he's got his cases and that's all he really needs.”

 

“What about you?” Sam asked. This time he moved a bit closer so that their legs were almost touching.

 

“I know I'll always care for him, but I was never really expecting anything more than friendship. At least, not from him.” She answered, and looked up to realize just how close she and Sam really were. She wasn't quite sure how it happened, but before she could realize what was going on, Molly was kissing Sam Winchester as if they'd been lovers their whole lives. Once it dawned on her what was actually happening, she pulled away, her cheeks flushed and breathing heavily. Sam looked as if he were terrified that he'd done something wrong.

 

“I...I'm sorry, I shouldn't have...” Sam stammered out an apology, but Molly wasn't interested. All she could think about was kissing him again, and that's exactly what she did. Before she knew it she was straddling his lap, his hands resting on her hips as hers tangled in his hair. It was all she could do to pull herself away and return to her original spot when Dean suddenly rolled over with an enormous smile plastered on his face.

 

“Atta boy, Sammy!” He exclaimed with a thumbs up before rolling back over and settling back into his bed. Molly put her hand to her mouth and looked at Sam who was staring down at his lap. She was slightly embarrassed that she'd let herself get so wrapped up in him that she forgot other people were in the room, especially only a few hours after she'd met him. Usually this wasn't the kind of thing she would condone, but she couldn't help herself. She felt a genuine connection with Sam, and she wasn't about to let that slip through her fingers.

 

“I'm sorry...I don't know...I'm not sure what I was thinking.” Sam said sheepishly.

 

“It's fine, really.” Molly smiled, blush creeping across her cheeks. “I don't mind.”

 

“Better get some sleep. Go ahead and take the bed, I'll be fine on the floor.” Sam said, pushing himself off of the bed and walking toward the small kitchenette area in the room, trying to avoid continuing the previous conversation.

 

“You don't have to, you know. We can share.”

 

“And then when Dean wakes up in the morning and sees us, we'll never hear the end of it.” He said, turning to look at Molly, who had scooted back to the middle of the bed.

 

“Let him talk. I don't want you to be uncomfortable, and you make me feel...safe.” Molly said, averting her eyes for a moment, then looking up at Sam through her eyelashes.

 

“I did say I was going to keep you safe while you're here.” Sam replied, trying to be smooth and only failing a little.

 

“Well then, you'd better agree to my terms.” Molly peeked at Sam and smiled before she crawled to the head of the bed and burrowed under the covers. It didn't take much more convincing for Sam to join her, and even less for him to wrap his long, strong arms around her and lull her to sleep with the sound of his heartbeat.

 


	4. Chapter 4

“Rise and shine love birds!” Dean's voice rang through the room, jolting Molly from a deep sleep. She opened her eyes to realize that Sam's arms were still wrapped tightly around her, but that quickly changed when they both realized that Sherlock and Dean were both very aware of that fact.

 

“What time is it?” Sam asked, rolling out of the bed and stretching his arms above his head.

 

“Why, have a late night last night?” Dean asked with a grin.

 

“I was teaching the incantation for exorcisms to Molly.” Sam replied, shooting a look at his brother.

 

“Yeah, I bet you were. All night long.”

 

“I think I've got it down.” Molly said, ignoring Dean's innuendos. “I should be able to help you guys out a bit, until we figure out how to stop them.” Molly said, sitting up and brushing her unruly hair out of her face.

 

“You can't be serious.” Sherlock suddenly chimed in from the same chair he'd been sitting in the night before.

 

“I don't know how else to help.” Molly rebutted, feeling a bit offended by Sherlock's outburst.

 

“Molly, are you trying to get yourself killed?”

 

“Hey, lay off.” Sam suddenly said, apparently not fond of the tone Sherlock was using with Molly.

 

“I'd rather not converse with one of the people that are trying to kill my pathologist, thank you.”

 

“ _Your_ pathologist?” Molly asked, confused.

 

“I can't have you dead, Molly. When we get back to London I'll need you to assist with cases.”

 

“You just want to make sure she stays alive so you can use her?” Sam asked, growing angrier with every word that left Sherlock's mouth.

 

“Sam...” Molly said, trying to ease the tension. This kind of thing was exactly what she'd been trying to warn him and Dean about when she talked about Sherlock. He is a ridiculous man. He doesn't know how to express what he's feeling except by logical means. Molly understood that, but she had the feeling that Sam and Dean didn't, judging by the looks that were plastered on their faces.

 

“No, Molly, you don't deserve to be talked to like that.”

 

“I think Romeo here is right, Molly. Your life is worth more than just being his...pet.” Dean spat, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

 

“That's not what I meant at all.” Sherlock said, more trying to clarify what he was trying to get out before than defend himself. “I only meant that I don't trust anyone else working with me. Molly does good work. The best, in my opinion. I would...I don't know how I could ever replace her.”

 

“Sherlock...” Molly started, remembering a little bit why she had fallen so hard for him in the first place. Yes, he was an utter git most of the time, but sometimes he could show a glimmer of empathy, or how much he _really_ cared. “Do you mean that?”

 

“I trust you, Molly. I don't want anything bad happening to you because...” Sherlock stopped, as if he couldn't get out what he wanted to say. “I just need you to stay alive.”

 

“Man, Molls, you've got a real romantic on your hands here. How do you keep from throwing yourself at him?” Dean said, ruining the moment with his usual sarcasm, and apparently coining a new nickname for Molly.

 

“I don't have to tolerate this.” Sherlock said, pushing himself out of his chair and turning his wrath on Sam and Dean. “You say you want to help me, but all you've done so far is personally attack me and keep me locked in this room! If you aren't going to do anything to solve this case, then I'll have to do it on my own. And, I assure you, I'm rather good at solving mysteries. So, Molly, if you want to stay here with these lunatics, be my guest, but I'm leaving.” Sherlock turned and donned his coat, stuffing his scarf in his pocket, and reached for the door handle.

 

“Sherlock, what are you doing?” Molly asked, scrambling out of the bed to bound over to his side. She wanted to grab him by the arm and force him to stay, but she couldn't bring herself to touch him. Somehow, he was still forbidden territory.

 

“I told you Molly, I'm leaving. They say they want to help, but they haven't made any progress. As I'm sure you know, I don't like sitting around and waiting for the criminal to make the next move. I'm going to go find out what's going on, with or without the help of these two. You can come with me if you want.”

 

“I...I don't think you should go. We're safer here.”

 

“I thought that might be the case...” Sherlock said, a twinge of sadness in his voice. “Well then, if you're staying I suppose this is goodbye. I sincerely hope that I'll see you again, Molly Hooper.”

 

“Sherlock, don't go! You don't know what you're doing! You're going to get yourself killed!” Molly practically screamed after Sherlock, but it was no use. He swiftly opened the door and swept out, closing it tightly behind him. If Sam hadn't been there to stop her, she would have run right after him. She would have dragged him back to the room kicking and screaming if she could.

 

“You can't let him go! He'll be killed!” She said frantically, fighting to get free of Sam's grasp so that she could go after Sherlock.

 

“You might be killed too!” Sam replied, effortlessly keeping her restrained. “We'll find him again, I promise, but you have to stay here with us.”

 

“What if the demons get to him first?”

 

“We'll just have to be faster. Sherlock doesn't really know where he is, he'll probably head into town, and the town isn't that big. We should be able to find him pretty easily. We'll just tail him until Azazel finds him, trap him, exorcise him, and then you two can go back to London, if that's what you want.”

 

“I don't know what I want. I _want_ everything to go back to normal. I _want_ to forget about...about demons and possession...I just want everyone to be safe.” Molly said, letting her knees buckle and allowing Sam to support her weight. He held her close to his chest, not saying a word. “I just want it to be over.”

 

“We'll get you through this. When all this is over you can go back home with Sherlock, and everything will be exactly how it was before. It'll be like this never happened.”

 

“How can you say that? I'll never be able to forget about this. About you, and Dean, and everything the two of you do. I'll _always_ remember. I want everything to go back to normal, but it never can. For now, I just want to focus on keeping him safe, but now he's on the case. Do you know what that means? _”_

 

“He's not gonna stop until he's demon chow.” Dean said, breaking into the conversation. Molly had almost forgotten that he was there, that he was witnessing everything, including her minor break down. She wished more than anything that she could be alone with Sam, to tell him everything she was thinking, to tell him her feelings for him. The truth was, she didn't really want to go back to London, at least not alone. She didn't particularly like the position she was in, but she didn't want to go anywhere without Sam, either. She would always care for Sherlock, and that was something that she accepted, but he could never love her like Sam could, and she wasn't willing to give up on that.

 

“When we find Sherlock, I don't want to go back with him.”

 

“What?” Sam asked, clearly confused at what Molly was trying to say.

 

“Sam, I want to stay with you. I don't care how dangerous it is. I can't go back to what I did before, not after everything that's happened. How am I supposed to live out the rest of my life knowing that there are spooky things in the dark, and not knowing what to do about them? I want Sherlock to be safe. I want him to go back to London and be with John and Mrs. Hudson and keep doing what he's always done, but I want to stay here with you and Dean. I want to be a hunter.”

 

“Sam, you marry that girl.” Dean chimed in, pointing toward Molly and raising his eyebrows. “I'm gonna go look for tall, dark, and brooding, you two stay here and have a talk. It seems like you need to.” Dean opened the door and briskly walked out, leaving Molly and Sam alone in the room, no one there to distract them or make witty comments about what they had to say.

 

“Do you mean that?” Sam asked, disbelief in his tone.

 

“I know that I've only known you for a day, but I just...I feel so connected to you...like this is where I'm supposed to be. I think I...” Molly stopped, unsure of what she was about to say, but it was now or never. “I think I might love you, Sam.”

 

Before Molly could say anything else she was in his arms, staring up into his green eyes, practically begging for any indication that he felt the same way. He only stared at her for a long time, holding her close, before he crushed his lips against hers. She'd had every intention on actually talking to Sam about her decision, but he didn't seem like he needed more of an explanation, and she was perfectly okay with that. He picked her up and she wrapped her legs around his waist, never breaking the kiss the entire time, and he gently laid her on the bed. Molly had been waiting for an opportunity to be alone with him, sex hadn't been the reason, but she wasn't opposed now. He made quick work of the buttons on her red blouse, revealing her pale skin and the lacy white bra she wore underneath.

 

“Sam.” Molly stopped him, he looked at her, breathing heavily, wondering what she could possibly want to talk about at a moment like this. He seemed to get it after a moment, without Molly having to say anything else.

 

“I love you, Molly.” He said, running his hands down the sides of her body, raising goose bumps on her skin with his delicate touch. That was all Molly needed, the confirmation of love, and she was ready for anything the world had to throw at her, as long as Sam was by her side.

 

oOo

 

Sherlock hadn't really thought about what he was doing before he left the motel, but he knew that he couldn't stand to stay there and watch Molly fawn over the younger of the Winchesters. Of course he'd known how she felt about him, it was obvious from the moment they met, but what was he supposed to do about it? His line of work was far too dangerous to get other people involved in, especially a woman that just happened to be madly in love with him. John was an exception, he'd seen battle before, he knew what to expect from the evil people that want to torture the rest of the world, but Molly was too delicate for something like that. At least that's what he thought.

 

From the moment Molly realized that what Sam and Dean were telling them was true, she'd seemed different, like she was drawn to it somehow. Sam had come in and swept her off her feet, and right out of Sherlock's grasp. Not that he would have ever acted on his feelings for her. His brother had always told him that caring wasn't an advantage, and he believed that wholeheartedly. Returning Molly's love for him would have caused her nothing but pain. What kind of life could she have possibly had with him? Waiting every day for him to return from a case that he very well might not make it out of alive. Then again, it didn't seem too much different from what Sam was involved in. Of course Molly would fall for another man with a dangerous job, it was just her type, but Sherlock wished more than anything that he wouldn't have missed his opportunity.

 

He found himself in the middle of the small town that Sam and Dean had taken him to, wondering aimlessly, lost in thoughts of how he was going to get out of the situation he'd found himself in on his own. Usually he would be the expert, how to stop the bad guy was kind of his thing in London, but for once he found himself totally at a loss. Sherlock didn't know anything about supernatural beings, aside from what very little Greek mythology he'd stored away in his mind palace, and that room was barely ever entered now. He thought for a moment that it might be useful to go back there, but going to his mind palace wasn't exactly an option now. He was alone, and that meant he was very vulnerable, if he was to believe the things that Dean had told him the day before. He couldn't go slipping into semi-unconsciousness when monsters were trying to take over his body. Anyway, he doubted the dusty tomes of the Greek mythology room of his mind palace would help with demons.

 

“Maybe I don't need that.” He said to himself, spotting a small library at the end of the street. If he could read the real books, he wouldn't need to go to his mind palace. He would be able to research more than what he had in his mind, he could research every mythological creature he wanted to, so long as the library had a computer. He wasted no time rushing into the library, ignoring the greetings of the librarians at the front desk and storming directly to the section that would hold the information he wanted. He grabbed every book off of the shelf that he thought might help him and dropped them on a large desk in the corner of the room, immediately opening one and beginning to skim through the pages. If he was going to defend himself from this impossible threat, he would need to know everything he could about it.

 

“Once you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be the truth.” He whispered, as if to remind himself that this was the rule he had always gone by. He hadn't had many cases in which the meaning was so literal, however. Before meeting the Winchesters, Sherlock would have never even thought the idea of demons and ghosts and things that go bump in the night were real, but he was being forced to believe that now. Even Molly had said that she'd seen the demons with her own two eyes, and Sherlock trusted her completely. She had no reason to lie to him, no reason to want to deceive him. He wanted more than anything to go back to that motel room and tell Molly what he was thinking, that he just didn't know how to say what he really felt, but it was far too late for that. Molly had moved on to Sam Winchester. Someone that Sherlock didn't think he would stand a chance against.

 

He shook his head, as if to dislodge his thoughts of Molly, and tried to focus on the book he was reading. This particular one was about demons. Obviously a fiction, or at least it was intended to be, but he suspected the author had no idea how real the subjects of his book actually were. Even if some of the things written in it were true, how could Sherlock be sure which items were true and which false? Holy water was mentioned, but he had no idea where he would get something like that, and everything else in the book he already knew from talking with Dean. He couldn't exactly salt the whole library, though, and he didn't know what a devil's trap looked like, never mind trying to actually draw one out. He should have never left the company of the Winchesters, but it wasn't like he could go back now. He suspected that, even if he did show up at the door of the room, Dean would more than likely only turn him away. He wasn't sure why he had to be so abrasive all the time, probably another way of keeping people at a distance, but only because he didn't want them to be harmed. Alone was safe. Alone protected him, and every person that ever tried to get close to him. In this case, however, he was beginning to feel like alone was the worst thing he could possibly be.

 

Sherlock turned the page, trying to find anything useful in the book, when the lights began to violently flicker. He seemed to remember something similar happening back in London, when he disappeared, or right before. He remembered John looking up from the newspaper, a terrified look on his face as he gazed over Sherlock's shoulder, and then he'd woken up in the desert. He closed the book, whirling around the room, looking for anything suspicious, but nothing was visible. The lights kept flickering and a strong gust of wind seemed to come from nowhere. He spun in place, breathing heavily, trying to think of any way out. He wanted to run screaming from the library and back to the motel, but he doubted he would make it that far.

 

“What do you want with me?” He asked quietly, his eyes darting around the room, scanning between the large bookcases, to the ceiling, the vents, but there was nothing. “Where are you?”

 

He spun around again to find a large mass of black smoke pouring from a vent in the ceiling, coming directly toward him. He wanted to turn and run, to do anything he could to keep it away, but he couldn't seem to move. It was as if he were frozen in place. Every fiber of his being was telling him to flee, but his body wouldn't obey him. It only took him a moment to realize that he'd been possessed already, and he was locked inside his own head. Not unlike being in his mind palace, except for the fact that he could still see what was going on outside of his body.

 

“If you're locking me in here, I'll make sure that you never get to my thoughts.” He said, his voice echoing through the palace that he'd created for himself. He raced to the door of the palace, locking it tightly, shoving chairs against it to keep anything out that tried to enter. He then ran to the kitchen in the large palace. He wasn't quite sure when he'd added a kitchen to the mind palace, but he wasn't complaining about it now. Everything he'd ever experienced in his life was hidden away in this place, and that meant salt. He remembered how salt would keep a demon away, and quickly went to work salting every door and window. The demon wanted his powers of deduction, his memories, his knowledge, but there was no way that he was going to let it have that information.

 

“You've probably never tried possessing someone like me before. You see, I have a very unique system of organizing my thoughts, it just happens to take the form of a building. And, if you can't get into buildings when salt is guarding them, then you shouldn't be able to get into _this_ building. I know, it must be very confusing to you, because I'm not supposed to know these things. Well, it seems that those intolerable men that saved me from the desert have taught me a few things about you.” Sherlock spoke to the open air as he worked diligently with the salt, making sure every entrance was blocked. He was sure that the demon that was possessing him could hear what he was saying.

 

“Well, this is a predicament.” He heard a voice sounding through the palace, no, through his entire _mind_. “I didn't imagine that you would be able to do something like this.”

 

“What do you want?” Sherlock asked, scanning the large room he was in.

 

“I did want your memories, as you've so kindly pointed out, but it seems like you've sealed me out. It's strange, how you can do something like this. Most of the meat I possess just gives in, let's me take over, but you're rather reluctant.”

 

“My mind is the most important thing to me. I wouldn't want it in your hands.”

 

“You know, I didn't think you would believe them. I thought this would be a cakewalk. Sam and Dean come to the rescue, you deny what they have to say, storm off, and I get everything I want. The power of deduction, and an easy way into their inner circle. I know they have that weapon, the one that can kill me, I just don't know where it is, or _what_ it is. I'm sure if I could get inside your head, I could easily figure it out, but it seems like you've derailed my plan.”

 

“Yes, so sorry about that.” Sherlock said defiantly. “You'll just have to find someone else to infiltrate the ranks.”

 

“No, no, I think I can still win. They're looking for you right now. That pretty little lady you had with you is probably worried sick. I'm sure she'd do anything to find you. Make sure you're safe. It's too bad that when she finds you, I'll have to kill her with _your_ hands.”

 

“Don't you dare touch Molly!”

 

“How are you gonna stop me?” The voice said with a sickening chuckle. “I'll make sure they find you, and when they do, you'll get to watch me kill her.”

 

Sherlock felt like he couldn't breathe. He couldn't think of anything else to say to the demon currently inhabiting his body. All he could think was that he had to stop him from killing Molly. His body turned, making for the door of the library.

 

“Where are you going?” He asked from within his mind.

 

“We're going to find Dean. He'll be my way to find Molly. I'm sure she's with Sam, but once Dean finds us, he'll want them to meet us somewhere.” The demon answered before they spotted who they were looking for. The Impala came cruising down the street and stopped right in front of them.

 

“There you are. You know you've got Molly worried sick, right?” Dean said, leaning out the window of the car. “Come on, get in, we need to get out of here.”

 

“Why would I go with you?” Sherlock heard his own voice, but he wasn't the one that was controlling it.

 

“Dean!” He tried to communicate from the inside, but nothing he did worked.

 

“Because I'm trying to save your skin, and if you don't come with me you're gonna be forced over to the dark side, now get in.” Dean said in answer to the demon's question. Sherlock's body started to move again, around the car and to the passenger side where he opened the door and got in. Being sure to break the devil's trap under the headliner before entering.

 

“Where are we going?”

 

“We're getting out of this town. If we keep moving, the demon shouldn't be able to find you. He might have your scent, but he still has to track you down like everyone else. We'll keep moving until we can come up with a plan.”

 

“Are you just going to drag me around the whole country?” The demon asked, playing Sherlock's character quite well. Sherlock hated how convincingly _him_ the demon actually was.

 

“If I have to to keep you from being possessed and used for the forces of evil, yeah.” Dean answered, pulling his cell phone out of his pocket and dialing Sam's number.

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here's the last chapter. I hope everyone has been enjoying it. I'm thinking about making a kind of series out of it. I have at least one more idea for another story with all these characters, which will be coming soon. If any of you lovely readers have any other ideas for short stories involving the Winchesters and characters from Sherlock that you would like to suggest, please feel free to do so in the comments. Again, thanks to everyone that reads my ramblings.

Sam was in the bathroom when his cell phone started ringing, and when Molly picked it up and figured out that it was Dean, she thought she had better answer it. She gathered a sheet around her body and flipped the phone open.

 

“Hello, Dean?” She said when she answered. Sam came back into the room shortly after. “Hold on, here he is.”

 

“Dean.” Sam said, skipping the hellos as soon as he got the phone. “Yeah, we'll meet you there.” He said, then hung up.

 

“What's going on?” Molly asked, holding the sheet in its place as she got out of the bed to look at Sam.

 

“Get dressed, he found Sherlock. They're coming to get us so we can leave town.”

 

“So we're just going to run away?”

 

“As long as we keep moving the demon shouldn't be able to find us. Dean wants to get on the road until we can think of a plan.” Sam answered, gathering a few things and shoving them into a duffel bag. Molly immediately found her clothes and started putting them on as quickly as she could, then tied her hair back in a low ponytail. Sam dug around in another bag and pulled out a gun which he promptly handed to her.

 

“I don't know how to use this.” She said, handling it as if it could go off by itself at any moment.

 

“Look, you just aim it at what you want to shoot and pull the trigger. I'll teach you more about it later. It won't really do much good against demons, but you never know what we'll run into and I want you to be ready for anything. The safety is on now, that's this little switch.” Sam said, pointing to a small switch on the side of the gun. “Move it in the other direction when you want to shoot. It won't work as long as that's in place. Ready?”

 

“Yes.” Molly answered, tucking the gun into the waistband of her trousers. She supposed if this was the life she was going to live once Sherlock was safe, she would have to get used to carrying and using guns. Sam nodded and opened the door for her, leaving the room behind and walking into the parking lot where Dean was just pulling in. They didn't waste any time getting into the car, and they sped off as soon as they were safely inside.

 

“Sherlock, are you okay?” Molly asked, staring at the back of Sherlock's head from the back seat of the car. He half turned in his seat to regard her, a strange smile on his face.

 

“I would be much better if your friend hadn't practically kidnapped me. I was doing fine on my own.” He answered, shooting a glaring look at Dean.

 

“Yeah, I'm sure you were, pal. The fact of the matter is that you can't hope to beat this on your own. You might as well just go along with us.” Dean said, never taking his eyes off the road.

 

“Is there any other way we can stop this? Any way at all? It seems like we're running out of options.” Molly said, concerned as she gazed at Sherlock.

 

“There's another way, but it's out of the question. For everyone.” Sam said, a stern look on his face.

 

“Tell me.”

 

“No.”

 

“Sam! If there's a way to keep him out of danger, I want you to tell me!”

 

“It's not worth it, Molly! The only thing that will come from it is pain.”

 

“What is it?” Molly asked, giving Sam a look of pure pleading. When that didn't work, she turned her attention on Dean. “Dean. What is he talking about?”

 

“Whoa, don't drag me into your lover's quarrel. He's the one that brought it up.” Dean answered, shaking his head.

 

“Someone had better tell me what is going on!” Molly yelled. “You promised me that you would save him, and if there's something that will help him that you aren't telling me I will never forgive you.”

 

Sam let out a sigh and then looked at her. “You can make a deal for him.”

 

“What kind of deal?”

 

“A deal with a crossroads demon. You tell them what you want and they grant it, but the downside is that you sell your soul to them. They give you a certain number of years to live, and at the end, they drag you to hell. It's really not the kind of thing you want to be messing with.”

 

“What if it's the only way to save him?”

 

“Molly, you can't be serious.” Sam said in disbelief.

 

“I'm not saying I want to do it. I'm just asking a question.”

 

“There has to be another way. I'm not gonna let you sacrifice yourself for some...some asshole that won't even give you the time of day!” Sam said, taking her hand.

 

“Well, that's very romantic.” Sherlock said from the front seat. Molly's brow furrowed at his voice. Something was wrong with him, she could just tell. Something had happened to him while he was gone. Sherlock had absolutely no concept of what is and isn't romantic. The fact that he was even attempting to comment on it rose a few red flags, but Molly decided to keep it to herself for now. If there was already a demon inside him, it couldn't know that she was catching on.

 

“Pull over, Dean.” She said without hesitation.

 

“What?” Dean asked, confused.

 

“Just pull over!” Dean did as he was told and Molly jumped out of the car, storming off into the open desert with Sam close behind. Dean got out of the car and just stood by, watching.

 

“What are you doing?” Sam asked as he chased after her. She walked with determination, trying to get far enough away so that there was no way Sherlock could hear what she said to Sam. She made it just far enough before she felt Sam's hand on her shoulder, turning her around to face him. “What is going on with you?”

 

“Sam, something's wrong with him.” She said, looking up at a very confused man.

 

“What do you mean? You think the demon already got to him?”

 

“I don't know, but something is wrong. He doesn't seem like himself.”

 

“He seems pretty much like himself to me.”

 

“There's just something about him, Sam. I can't put my finger on it, but I know it's not him. I just know. You don't know him like I do. Azazel got to him, it's the only explanation. He was on his own for, what, an hour? Maybe two? That's plenty of time. We have to get him out of Sherlock's head.”

 

“He's trapped in the Impala.” Sam said suddenly, his eyes widening.

 

“The devil's trap...” Molly remembered. How could she have forgotten something like that? If there was a demon possessing Sherlock, he wouldn't be able to leave the car. “We need to read the exorcism.”

 

“Hey, guys, what's going on over here?” Dean asked, walking over to them. Molly looked over his shoulder and saw Sherlock still sitting in the car, and she half thought of calling him over as well, just to see what would happen.

 

“Azazel is in Sherlock already.” Sam said, getting straight to the point.

 

“You're kidding.” Dean said, looking back and forth between his brother and Molly. “How do you know?”

 

“I just know.” Molly answered. “Something's not right about him, I can feel it.”

 

“Sorry boys, am I interrupting something?” Sherlock's voice came from behind Dean before any of them ever knew he was there. “I know you've been suspicious of me, and with good reason. You're right, Molly, I've got Sherlock all locked away. Or, rather, he's locked himself away. He did this pesky little thing where he shut me out of his mind. I still have control over the body, but he's using that ridiculous mind palace of his to keep me away from the information I need.”

 

“Molly, get back.” Sam said, pushing Molly back and backing away from Sherlock himself.

 

“I made him a little promise, though.” Sherlock said before disappearing from their view. They looked around the desert, but he was nowhere to be found. Suddenly, Molly felt hands on her throat, an arm wrapping around her neck, holding her tight against a body. Sam and Dean whirled around when they heard her struggling, and their eyes went wide when they saw what had happened. Sherlock was behind her, holding a knife to her neck, while Sam and Dean stood helpless a few feet away.

 

“How did you get out of the car?” Dean asked, trying to stall what seemed like the inevitable.

 

“Well, Sherlock knew about that little trap you had painted on the roof, underneath the headliner. I took care of it before I got in. Just a little insurance. I didn't want to be trapped in there when there was so much fun to be had out here.”

 

“Just let her go. You can have me, just take me instead. I know that's what you want.” Sam pleaded, watching as Molly struggled against Sherlock's grasp, or rather, the demon that was possessing him.

 

“But Sam, I have to follow through with my promise.” He said, smiling wickedly as he pressed the blade harder against Molly's throat. Blood began to bead on the shining silver knife, and Molly let out a gasp as she felt the cold steel bite into her flesh. “I promised our favorite consulting detective that he would watch his lady love die by his own hands, and I intend on fulfilling that promise. But, if you're still feeling generous after, I'd be happy to take you up on that offer.”

 

“Let her go, you son of a bitch!” Dean yelled, pulling a gun from his coat and pointing it toward Molly and Azazel.

 

“Dean, Dean. You should know that guns won't work on me. Besides, if you shoot me while I'm in this body, poor Sherlock will have to die too.” Azazel said with a smile.

 

“Yeah, well, this isn't any ordinary gun. I know you've heard of that magical weapon that can kill anything. Well here it is. It's nice, isn't it?”

 

“You're lying.”

 

“Wanna try it out to see for yourself?” Dean asked, pulling the hammer back and keeping his aim trained on Azazel.

 

“Dean, you can't! You can't kill Sherlock!” Molly sobbed. “I know he's still in there. He's still alive in there. He's keeping Azazel out somehow. He may be inhabiting his body, but he can't get to his mind. Please save him.”

 

“Molly, he's gonna kill you!” Dean yelled at her, never lowering the gun.

 

“Then let him! If it means you can save Sherlock, just let him kill me.”

 

“Molly...” Sam said, his voice shaking, tears filling his eyes.

 

“Our mission was to save Sherlock. You can't do that if you shoot him. I need you to do this for me. Sherlock has more important things to do when he gets out of this. I'm not important. Just let me go.” Molly said through tears as Sam and Dean looked on in disbelief.

 

“Well, this is all very touching, but I have work to do.” Azazel said, then slid the blade across Molly's throat with such force that she didn't even feel it cutting through. What she did feel, though, was the intense pain afterward. She hadn't imagined that bleeding to death would be so utterly painful, but she couldn't have imagined most of the things that had happened to her so far. The last thing she saw was Sherlock staring down at her with bright yellow eyes.

 

“ _Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica. Ergo draco maledicte_   _et omnis legio diabolica adjuramus te. Cessa decipere humanas creaturas, eisque aeternae Perditionis venenum propinare.”_ Sam began reciting the ritual for exorcism before Dean could even think about what might be happening. Molly laid at Sherlock's feet, slowly choking on her own blood, dying right in front of them, and all Dean wanted to do was put a bullet through his head.

 

“You can send me back to hell, Sammy, but I'll come crawling right back out, and when I do I'll still be coming for you.” Azazel said in Sherlock's voice as he stepped over Molly's corpse. “If you don't kill me now, who knows when your next chance will be.”

 

“ _Vade, Satana, inventor et magister omnis fallaciae, hostis humanae salutis. Humiliare sub potenti manu dei, contremisce et effuge, invocato a nobis sancto et terribili nomine, quem inferi tremunt. Ab insidiis diaboli, libera nos, Domine. Ut Ecclesiam tuam secura tibi facias libertate servire te rogamus, audi nos. Ut inimicos sanctae Ecclesiae humiliare digneris, te rogamus, audi nos.”_ Sam kept reciting the incantation from memory, and Azazel dropped to his knees in anguish, clutching his hair in his hands, his eyes squeezed shut and he let out a scream. Sam had every intention on continuing, but before he could start again, smoke poured from Sherlock's mouth and snaked away, leaving him a limp puddle on the desert sand. Sam and Dean both rushed toward him, but Sam ran right past and to Molly's body. He'd had some hope that she was still holding on, but it was evident when he got to her that it was too late.

 

Dean knelt beside Sherlock as he came to, frantically looking around the desert as he pushed himself up on his elbows. He looked toward where he remembered Molly's body to be and felt every muscle in his body go limp at the sight of Sam cradling her lifeless form in his arms.

 

“You should have killed me.” Sherlock said to Dean as he turned away from Sam's grief. “At least then Molly would be alive.”

 

“She wanted you alive more than anything.” Dean explained, tucking the gun away in his coat and lending a hand to Sherlock to help him up. He took it and brushed himself off once he got to his feet.

 

“I heard what she said. It was complete rubbish. Molly Hooper was possibly the most important person I've ever had the pleasure of crossing paths with, and I'm going to bring her back.”

 

“What do you mean? She's dead. You can't get her back.” Dean tried to explain, but Sherlock wasn't having it.

 

“What do you need to do to make a crossroads deal?” Sherlock asked without hesitation.

 

“Wait a minute man, that's some serious shit. You can't just go throwing your life away for...”

 

“For what? Nothing? Is that what you were going to say? I want to make this deal to bring Molly back, because she doesn't deserve to die so young. She's full of promise, and I'm just a bitter, egotistical, borderline sociopathic detective, who doesn't even have the common decency to return the love that she so selflessly gave me. I'd say the world needs more people like her, and less like me. So please, tell me how to make a deal and take me wherever I need to go to do it.”

 

“Fine, but we need to get out of here. I'll tell you when we get back to the motel.” Dean agreed reluctantly, crossing his arms in front of his chest and walking over to stand beside his brother. Sherlock followed, but he couldn't bring himself to look at the scene that was taking place in front of him. Sam still sat on the ground, cradling Molly's lifeless body in his arms, smoothing back her hair and staring down at her pale face. Her eyes stared up into oblivion, unblinking. Sherlock never wanted anything like this to happen to her, and by his own hand, to top it all off.

 

“Sammy, we need to go.” Dean said softly, placing a hand on his brother's heaving shoulders. “Let's get her in the car.”

 

“Take me to a crossroads.” Sam said between gasping breaths. “She didn't deserve this. I have to save her.”

 

“Sam, you have important things to do, keeping monsters like this from hurting people.” Sherlock began, still not able to look at Sam and Molly. “I've already talked with your brother, I'll be making a deal for Molly's life. She wants to be with you, and if that means she'll be happy then I want her to have that. If you sacrifice your soul for her, she'll only get ten years with you, and then she'll be miserable. If you're going to spend the rest of your life with her...I want you to have a full life to share.” Sherlock rattled off, never making eye contact with Sam as he spoke. His eyes just wondered around the desert, as if he was looking for something, but really he just didn't want to have to face what was about to happen.

 

“You'd do that?” Sam asked, temporarily distracted from martyrdom.

 

“If it means that Molly will be happy, I'll do whatever it takes.” Sherlock said, finally meeting Sam's bloodshot gaze. Sam got up, gently placing Molly's head on the sand, and quickly embraced Sherlock to show his gratitude. He hadn't been expecting that, but decided to shortly return the embrace before stepping back and taking a deep breath. Sam picked up Molly's body and took it to the car, placing it in the back seat and gently closing her eye lids. He just sat there with her while Dean and Sherlock got all of the necessary components for a crossroads deal together, and drove to the nearest one they could find.

 

“Are you sure you're ready for this?” Dean asked as he parked on the side of the road, the crossroads in front of the car.

 

“Yes.” Sherlock replied without so much as a glance in his direction. Dean handed him a box and he put everything in, dropping his ID photo in last and closing the box tightly. He and Dean got out of the car and walked to the middle of the crossroads and started digging.

 

“Have you ever stopped to think about how Molly might feel about you doing this?” Dean asked, plunging the shovel he held into the packed dirt and placing it beside the hole he had been working on.

 

“It's irrelevant. Molly didn't deserve to die, she didn't do anything wrong.” Sherlock answered, running his thumb over the edge of the box he held, waiting impatiently to bury it.

 

“So you're gonna give up the rest of your life for her. She won't be happy.”

 

“She _will_ be happy. She'll be with Sam. He can give her what she needs.”

 

“And when you die, do you think she'll be happy then? Knowing that you'll be rotting in hell for the rest of eternity.”

 

“Again, it doesn't matter. In time she'll forget about me. She'll have a family with Sam, be a part of something bigger in the world. All I am is a private detective. No one cares about what happens to me. I'll be easily forgotten over time, but Molly will be sorely missed. It wasn't time for her to go.”

 

“It's your funeral.” Dean said, then realized exactly how inappropriate that might have been. He shifted his eyes toward Sherlock. “Sorry, that was a bit more literal than I meant it to be...”

 

“Is it ready?” Sherlock asked, ignoring what Dean had said.

 

“Yep, just put it in and wait.” Dean replied. Sherlock did as he was told, covered the hole, and stood by waiting for the demon to show up.

 

“How long does this normally take?”

 

“As long as it needs to, sugar.” A female voice with a thick southern accent came from behind Sherlock. He turned to see a tall, slender blond woman with big blue eyes standing there. Her eyes quickly turned red, to confirm her identity, and Sherlock and Dean both tensed at her presence.

 

“I assume you know what I want.” Sherlock said, clasping his hands behind his back.

 

“You'll have to clarify.” The woman said, stepping closer.

 

“I want you to bring Molly back.”

 

“And in return?”

 

“My soul, obviously. This is your job, I assumed you would know how it works.”

 

“No need to be rude, darlin', we just have to be sure about these things.” The demon took another step forward, closing the short distance between herself and Sherlock, and placed a hand on his chest.

 

“How many years will you give me?” He asked, eying her hand suspiciously.

 

“Well, normally we give you ten, but I'm feeling a bit generous this evenin', so I think I'll give you twelve. Twelve years of life and then it's down to the pit, all to save that sweet little girl. You must really care for her. It's a shame you'll lose her when she comes back. I feel bad for you, sweetie. A handsome man like you deserves better.” The demon purred, tracing a finger from Sherlock's temple to his chin.

 

“Are you quite finished?” He asked, rolling his eyes.

 

“Not quite. So, that's the deal you want, then?”

 

“I suppose it will have to do. How do we seal it?”

 

“You just sit back and relax, sugar, I'll take it from here.” The demon said, then pulled Sherlock down to her and pressed her lips feverishly against his. It only lasted a moment, but it was enough to make Sherlock extremely uncomfortable. “There you go, all done. See you in hell, Sherlock Holmes.”

 

The demon disappeared before Sherlock could even blink, then he spun quickly around and dashed to the car to see if it had worked. There was only the smallest amount of doubt in his mind that it was all a hoax, that Molly wouldn't really come back, but that was all pushed aside when he ran up to the window and heard a gasping breath being drawn from the back seat.

 

“Molly!” He yelled, leaning down to look in the window. Her head was resting in Sam's lap, elevated to help her breathe as she looked out the window to see Sherlock. She looked terrified of him for a moment, and then seemed to realize that it was really him.

 

“Sherlock, you're alive.” She wheezed, a small smile playing on her lips.

 

“Yes, Azazel seems to have grown tired of possessing me. How are you feeling?” Sherlock asked, wanting more than anything to climb into the car and pull her into a hug.

 

“I'm not exactly sure what happened, to be honest. I thought that you...” Molly stopped, realizing what she was about to say. “I thought Azazel killed me. I can almost remember how it felt...”

 

“No. He tried, but Dean stopped him.” Sherlock said as Dean ran up to the car to see Molly.

 

“Thank you, Dean, for not shooting him. I knew you would find a way to get the demon out without killing Sherlock.”

 

“Yeah, no problem.” He answered, the slightest hint of reluctance in his voice. “I think we should get you back home, Sherlock. Take this with you.” He pulled a necklace with a strange charm out of his pocket and handed it to Sherlock.

 

“What's this?”

 

“It's an anti-possession charm. As long as you're wearing that bad boy, no demon can get inside you.”

 

“This would have come in handy _before_ I was possessed, Dean.” Sherlock said, pulling the necklace over his head and tucking it into his shirt.

 

“Yeah, well, they're kinda hard to find. I could only find one, so I'm giving it to you. Those demons aren't gonna stop trying to get at you, but this'll help hold them off.”

 

“Thank you.”

 

“Don't mention it. Get in, we'll take you to the airport.” Dean said, walking around to the driver's side of the car and getting in. Sherlock did as he was told and entered the car, only chancing a glance at Molly and Sam in the back seat. They were a picture of perfect and happy. Sam brushed hair out of Molly's face and she smiled up at him, neither of them seeming to care if the whole world stopped turning, as long as they were together.

 

The ride to the airport was in silence. Sherlock knew that he'd be going back alone, and that was enough to keep him silent and brooding the whole time. Once they got there, Molly carefully got out of the car with Sherlock, but he knew it was only to say goodbye.

 

“Molly...” Sherlock started. He only wanted to tell her that he respected her decision, that it was okay that she was staying in America with Sam and Dean, and that he would always think of her fondly. It came as a shock to him when she interrupted with a very uncharacteristic kiss. She grabbed him by the collar of his belstaff and pulled him down to her, savoring the only moment that they'd ever really even made contact.

 

“Thank you, Sherlock. For everything you've done.” She said, tears forming in her eyes.

 

“What do you mean? I haven't done anything.” Sherlock answered, confused as to what she might be talking about.

 

“I know you made a deal to save my life. I died back there. I know you tried to keep it from me, but I put it all together eventually. You shouldn't have done that. How long did they give you?”

 

“Twelve years. I'm sure I can get a lot of things accomplished in that time. Not sure how much longer I would live anyway.”

 

“I don't know how, but we'll find a way to get you out of the deal, Sherlock. Sam and Dean know what they're doing, and they're going to teach me. I'm going to stay here with them and find a way to help you. I know it's not really what you wanted, but I just can't go back to my life now. After everything that's happened. I know about demons and monsters now. Knowing about that and not doing anything about it just isn't something I can do. I guess you have more of an influence on me than I thought.”

 

“Yes, I never would have thought you would be fighting the bad guys as well.” Sherlock said with a sad smile, the placed a hand on Molly's arm and leaned in to kiss her on the cheek. “You're going to do wonderful things, Molly Hooper, and you'll be sorely missed. Thank you for teaching me that alone isn't always the best thing.”

 

“Take care of yourself, Sherlock. I'm sure we'll see each other again soon.” Molly said with a smile as Sam climbed out of the car behind her, noticing that her legs were beginning to fail her.

 

“Yes. I'm sure.” Sherlock answered with a small, sad smile and then looked to Sam. “It was nice meeting you and your brother, Sam. Please take care of Molly.”

 

“Sure thing.” Sam said, standing by Molly's side. He dug into the inside pocket of his coat and pulled out a small envelope. “Just a few more things that might help you. Instructions on how to make a devil's trap and the incantation for exorcisms. I'm not sure how far the demons have spread, but that'll probably come in handy for you at some point.”

 

“Thank you.”

 

“Don't mention it.” Sam said with a nod.

 

“Goodbye, Molly Hooper.” Sherlock said with one last sad smile before he turned and walked toward the doors of the airport, never looking back toward Molly and Sam.

 

“Goodbye, Sherlock Holmes.” Molly whispered, but she knew he couldn't hear her now. Sam looped his arm around her and helped her back to the car, then climbed in the front seat with Dean.

 

“Whereto now, Sammy?” Dean asked after Sam and Molly had gotten settled in the car.

 

“Somewhere quiet.” Sam answered, glancing back at Molly. “I think we all deserve a break after that one.”

 

“You know, for once Sam,” Dean started, shifting the Impala into drive. “I couldn't agree more.”

 


End file.
